


Role Reversal

by Jeminy3



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: BDSM, Digital Art, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, F/F, F/M, Feminization, Genderfluid Character, Illustrations, Pegging, Riding Crops, Role Reversal, Sexual Roleplay, Strap-Ons, Trans Roy, Trans Roy Mustang, Transgender, Verbal Humiliation, Whipping, illustrated fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 07:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeminy3/pseuds/Jeminy3
Summary: Another old thing i've finally finished polishing and added a drawing for.This is, (like most of my fics), a collection of things I really wanted to see written about - and a bunch of things I'm very horny for.Namely: Queerplatonic/Friends-With-Benefits Royai, BDSM with Dom!Riza and Sub!Roy, Roy in a Dress, Riza in a Pantsuit, Other Very Sexy things, with a big bonus of Genderfluid/Transfeminine Roy with Riza being supportive… in her own way.Pronouns will change. NSFW warnings will show up as necessary.Read the Google Doc here.Read on Tumblr here.





	Role Reversal

If anyone assumed Riza Hawkeye was too straight-laced to enjoy the finer things in life, they were sorely mistaken - she just preferred things a certain way, that's all.

A good example involves her current situation: she's politely refused partaking in any alcoholic drinks during the event she was currently attending, instead getting her fill from sparkling apple cider. She greatly dislikes inebriation, as it never agreed with her in her experience, and she prefers to stay fully aware in her waking life. Besides, the gold-colored drink looks no different from champagne - tastes better too, in her opinion.

In this way she can keep her ever-watchful eyes as sharp as her namesake as she scans the room - a hotel lobby dressed up for a politically-motivated cocktail party - taking note of the building's layout, entrances and exits, where the hotel staff cycles in and out from, and how the attendees and their attitudes ebb and flow as the party progresses.

In a word, she likes control.

It applied to any situation in her life - on the battlefield, in the office, even in her dog's behavior training. She was a force of order in a world of chaos, making sense out of a senseless world, even if the effort was fruitless in the grand scheme of things - if anything, the endlessness of the process was a strange sort of comfort for her.

"The only constant in this world is that it's always changing." One of the few things her father ever said that she actually agreed with.

So whether she was organizing files, lining up gun sights, or in this case, keeping an eye out for either potential danger or her friend and superior officer making a fool of himself, she was in her element.

The aforementioned friend and superior officer, Colonel Roy Mustang, stands not far from her, on the other side of the hors d'oeuvres table they were currently haunting in order to appear as engaged as possible without actually giving a damn.

Newly-appointed Fuhrer Grumman is gathered with the Amestrian Generals and other industry leaders several feet away, chattering endlessly for most of the past hour or so. This event was the latest in many political gatherings that were supposed to strengthen ties between leaders and ensure potential partnerships, but in reality, they were a waste of time. The stubborn, incestuous nature that the Amestrian government's kept up for the past however-many-centuries meant that most of the time, these gatherings really only succeeded in fluffing up peacocking feathers and inflating already-bloated egos.

She never liked these parties. Neither did Roy.

Riza looks at him again. At a glance, Roy appears to be enjoying himself - he's standing at attention, leaning slightly on one hip and balancing a flute of champagne in one hand, head raised with (feigned) interest in whatever the Brass were prattering on about.

But Riza can tell he's anything but relaxed - on close inspection, she can see deepened stress lines around his eyes and nose, his lips pressed into such a thin line they've nearly vanished from his features, and the hand bent behind the crook of his back clenches and unclenches repeatedly, fingers aching for some kind of physical activity, no doubt.

Riza certainly can't blame him for being so tense, after all they went through recently - specifically, the Promised Day and the fallout that's occurred afterwards. It's been difficult to navigate the massive power vacuum left in the wake of Bradley's death, along with everything else about the homonculi and their master, but they're managing as best they can. Cutting off the head of the dragon was a good step, but only that - a step in the long, long climb towards a democracy free of war and corruption.

Things will certainly improve once Grumman lays the groundwork for Roy's ascension - despite personal misgivings with her grandfather, Riza has no doubt he'll do his job well - but for now, it's slow-going. Unfortunately, Roy was never good at sitting quietly and waiting. He'd be a terrible sniper, she says all the time.

Right now, he more resembles a spring wound too tightly, shuddering with anxiety and liable to snap in the form of the wrong words at the wrong time when the wrong person approached him. Which would be awkward at best,  _ disastrous _ at worst, so Riza decides to circumvent that possibility altogether and approach him herself.

She crosses the distance between them by navigating around the table's end and approaching his front slowly, getting his attention with a nod and gentle smile. He loosens significantly at the sight of her, already a relief for his no-doubt-bristling nerves, and she doesn't miss the small sigh that escapes him as she settles at his side and hooks a hand through the loop of his bent arm.

She looks up at him and speaks low, enough to not be heard by anyone else in the vicinity. "Holding up alright, Colonel?"

Roy snorts softly, and responds in kind to keep up their privacy. "As much as I can."

"Same here," she murmurs. "Remind me when this is over again?"

Roy rolls his eyes in Grumman's direction. "Knowing him? Probably in another hour, at the  _ very _ least."

Riza groans softly. "Can't we leave? They've clearly finished mingling with our brigade. Breda and Falman are already gone."

Roy blinks. "They are?"

"They slipped out the back when the waiters were refilling drinks for everyone." There's a tinge of envy to her tone, as she'd caught sight of them for a few moments as they left, but only just.

Roy scoffs. "They could have  _ said something _ ."

"Guess they forgot to, in all their eagerness."

"Eager to leave their superiors in the  _ dust _ . So much for loyalty." Roy chuffs with annoyance, lifting his champagne glass to his mouth.

Riza merely shrugs noncommittally. "Heymans's only as enthusiastic as his people-reading allows, and even Vato has his limits. Who knows, maybe they had plans."

That makes Roy nearly spit up the champagne he's sipping. He clears his throat to recover. "Erm, hm- plans?"

Riza lids her eyes and looks at him through their corners, like she always does to look incredulous. "They're grown men with lives outside of the military, sir, don't be surprised. I'm not."

"Uh- of course, of course," Roy mutters, wiping his lips with a thumb and doing his very best to  _ not _ look perturbed at the idea of Breda and Falman having unprofessional affairs, bless his heart.

In light of having nothing better to do to entertain herself, Riza decides to needle him further.

She cocks her head, murmuring in a more teasing tone of voice. "You know...  _ we _ could make plans too, sir. I don't think we'll be greatly missed here anymore - might be a restaurant or two worth checking out on this street... unless you'd rather head straight home, of course."

Roy shifts on his feet, his eyes flitting to and away from her a few times, but he says nothing for a few moments. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and brings his glass to them again. "Mm. Maybe," he mumbles into the glasswork, taking another sip.

Riza lets her hand in his arm travel up and along it, considering him for a few moments. Maybe, hm? She could leave it at that, but all this talk of "plans" and night-time activities is drumming up a swarm of ideas in her brain with increasingly suggestive detail and fervor. Neither of them are strangers as bed-mates - even now, Riza can imagine clearly the curve of Roy's backside under his suit - but it  _ has _ been a long while since they spent such time together.

Their last time was... almost a year ago now, actually. Before Hughes' passing, if she remembers correctly... Then it's no wonder she's felt so empty and frustrated lately. And Roy, with the tragedy still weighing heavily on his heart - she can't  _ imagine _ how he must feel.

But then, perhaps that's all the better reason to bring this up.

Riza's errant hand travels up and along Roy's shoulders, and he tenses slightly at the touch - then suppresses a small shudder as she slide her fingers along his spine, down to the small of his back. (She stops short of cupping his ass - there's people around, after all.)

He's definitely wanting , but he won't admit it verbally... not without more encouragement.

Riza leans in and changes her tone again, this time leaning more into the... enticing side of things, but not dipping into ridiculousness. All the while she keeps her stern timbre, and the result is a special sort of commanding tone used between them only in utmost privacy.

"It's been a long time, sir. I think we're both due for some...  _ release _ , after all we've been through, wouldn't you say?"

She holds Roy's gaze as she speaks, watches him blink once, twice, several more times, a little slower each time. The start of a flush colors his features, and he works his throat, swallowing despite not consuming anything.

He's thinking about it. Definitely thinking about it. But all he says is, a little hoarsely, "...I suppose."

Still resistant? Well, the man did have a bad habit of denying himself his own desires in favor of overworking himself to the point of exhaustion, out of his own obsessive need to always be working towards his goals in some way, every day, little by little. Whether that be by actual work back at the office, or work on his carefully-maintained reputation via fake-dates with his sisters or deathly boring social gatherings like this one.

It's not the first time Riza's had to push and prod him into taking an  _ actual _ break from his stresses and let himself loose, and it won't be the last - ironic, when everyone calls  _ her _ the workaholic who can't relax.

Looks like she'll need to sweeten the pot for him - so, she brings out an old favorite of his.

"You know I hate this dress," she mutters, shifting uncomfortably within the confines of her cocktail dress, nothing more than a tight black tube of fabric suffocating her legs and torso as far as she was concerned. "Chafes me terribly. If it wasn't for parties like this, I'd have thrown it out already."

"Mm." Another noncommittal hum from Roy. He knows this very well.

"...But times are changing, after all," she continues. "Maybe I can get rid of it soon..."

She tilts her head and fixes him with a knowing look. "That is, unless  _ you _ can find some use for it, Colonel."

Roy's eyes widen slightly, and the subtle color on his face deepens into a distinct blush.

Among the many secrets Riza keeps for him, one is Roy's occasional indulgence in wearing dresses and other feminine clothing. He grew up in a brothel after all, raised by a gaggle of women who enjoyed involving him in games of dress-up and fashion experiments. But at some point in his boyhood the activity grew from a silly game to a rather normal thing, supported and encouraged by his foster family, and he kept it as a private hobby well into his teenhood, when Riza first met him and learned of all this - this is far from the first time they've negotiated the exchange of each other's garments.

He'd kept it up even as far as his Academy days. But alas, when the mountain of military pressures wore him thin - eventually overwhelming him with the tragedy of the Ishvalan War - the activity was shoved into the dark recesses of his shame, and his favorite dresses gathered dust in his closet in much the same manner. Fortunately he could be convinced to try them on again with some encouragement - much like what Riza was doing now.

She quirks her head further, amused at Roy's quiet flustering. "Of course, it'd have to be adjusted for your size. You've said one of your sisters is a seamstress, correct?"

He swallows again, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Ah- Victoria is, yes."

"Good. If we leave now, I can have it dropped off at the Madame's place by morning, and she can have it ready for you by tomorrow night."

Roy forces a chuckle as his eyes jerk to his sides, as if wary of eavesdroppers. "Hah- You act like I've already agreed to this, Lieutenant."

She holds his gaze. "Well, do you?"

Roy opens and closes his mouth, but says nothing, just stares at her. He can't seem to decide on what to say, his eyes twitching this way and that as a hundred questions and counter-arguments seem to flicker behind the lenses of his eyes, his mind an indecisive projector. Finally, he shifts to stare down at his dress shoes, mouth and throat still working, but he tenses his jaw shut.

He needs something genuine. Riza edges closer, snakes the arm at his back around his waist, squeezes gently in more of a side-hug than a teasing grope. She drops both the eroticism and the sternness from her voice, this time aiming for something closer to how they spoke as teenagers, watching the clouds go by as they lay upon the Eastern hillsides of her birthplace.

"I know it's been a while, but- I think you'd look nice, Roy."

Roy relaxes visibly, deflating with a small sigh. He closes his eyes for a moment, no doubt savoring the reassurance, verbally and physically.

When he looks at her again, his confidence has returned, somewhat, in the form of a small, crooked smile.

"Well- I  _ am _ curious to see if you're right."

\---

By the next evening, they've have made good on their mutual promise and laid some exciting plans for tonight, to say the least - Roy for his planned outfit, Riza for... everything else. Neither of them have gone into too much detail, of course. Half of the fun was the pleasant surprise.

After finishing her setup - part of which involved dropping off Black Hayate with a trustworthy neighbor who petsits on the side - Riza received a nervous but eager phone call from Roy stating he's ready to go, so Riza has donned her best pantsuit and now drives through the darkened streets of Central to pick him up.

The suit's far better than the cocktail dress. She sits comfortably in her dark slacks, with a black collared suit jacket of fine material cinched beneath her sternum, revealing an elegant white button-down shirt that's topped with a long, pointed collar bending sharply away from her neck. She complements it with some makeup - enough to doll herself up a bit, but not excessively so - medium-heeled dress shoes, her usual silver double-earrings, and her blonde hair falling freely across her shoulders.

She busies her mind with total concentration on her driving, for now - the temptation is strong, but she mustn't distract herself with thoughts of fondness and excitement over tonight's coming activities. Soon enough, she comes upon the sprawling luxury apartment complex Roy lives in, large enough for each home to qualify as a townhouse more than anything else with their second floors and guest rooms. She settles into its parking lot, humming to herself as she exits her car and makes her way to his front door.

Riza raps on the door with her knuckles. There's a shifting somewhere beyond it, and then Roy's voice calls out distantly. "Come in - the door's unlocked!"

After briefly amusing herself with the idea of Roy being too dolled up to answer the door without spraining an ankle, she opens the door and slowly enters. She's greeted by the sight of Roy's parlor: Like the rest of his somewhat-sparse apartment, it only contains necessary furnishings, a few personal heirlooms and effects, and various books and folios for Alchemy and military research. Ever the extrovert, he spends most of his time at work, out on the town, or in the homes of friends and family - for many reasons, he dislikes being alone.

Roy's lithe form rises from a small couch in the middle of the room as Riza steps over the threshold and closes the door behind her. As she takes in the sight of him, eyes widening, he does a small twirl and rests a hand on his hip.

"So- how do I look?"

Riza stares. She could say that her former dress looks quite a bit different on Roy's person, but that would be a  _ tragic _ understatement.

There's a new slit down the side for ease of movement, the straps have been cut and re-sewn to loop around his neck instead of his shoulders, and the back's been left permanently unzipped to allow room for his broad upper body. The result is the dress becoming a scandalous open-back halter top, leaving none of his arm and back muscles to the imagination and offering enticing peeks at one of his long legs through the slit. Whatever still covers him clings tightly to his body, maybe a half-size too small for him, but it accentuates every dip and curve to a maddening degree.

And on closer inspection, his exposed leg seems to be encased in a thin, dark sheer legging that rises halfway up his thigh and stops there, offering further excitement in flashes of cream-colored skin near his hip. And- is that a garter belt? Oh my.

It also appears Roy has decided to complete the look with some stylish shoes, an application of makeup, and glittering jewelry. The shoes are black pointed pumps, high-heeled and confirming Riza's suspicion about his ankles, but he seems to be keeping his balance well enough; Small clip-on earrings dangle from his un-pierced ear lobes, tiny red gems hanging from silver chains; His face is lightly powdered to soften his features, and his smoldering eyes have been made even more so by a layer of shimmering eyeshadow and coal-black mascara. Even his lips have been supplemented with a rich maroon-colored lipstick.

To top it all off, his dark hair appears freshly-washed and brushed smooth, not gelled and slicked back like his usual formal attire. His bangs sway above his eyes in a much more harmonious fashion than usual, neatly tucked behind his ears at their edges.

"Y- you look  _ stunning _ , sir," Riza says, after finding her tongue again.

Roy's thickened eyelashes flutter towards the floor, his cheeks flushing bashfully again. "Thank you. But it's debatable whether I compare to  _ your _ natural loveliness, Lieutenant."

"Well," Riza pauses to clear her throat, feeling very dry suddenly, "Ahem- I'd disagree there, sir. It's obvious you've gone through quite the effort."

Roy's eyes briefly roll toward the ceiling. " _ God _ , was it ever. It's been so long that I had to ask Chris and the girls to refresh my memory on how to  _ do _ this again. I'm still amazed they were willing to help me so much on such short notice. Especially Victoria - damn miracle-worker, she is. Sailed through the sewing job like a ship's captain."

"It shows," Riza murmurs, not entirely listening. As he spoke, she's taken a few steps closer to further admire the details of Roy's person. Yup, there's  _ definitely _ a garter belt under there, straps and all. Panties too, most likely...

...She realizes she's been staring too long when Roy clears his throat this time. "You seem, ah... eager, Lieutenant. Shall we get going?"

Riza tears her gaze away from Roy's hips to meet his eyes, where his bashfulness is starting to melt away into amusement as he studies her. She feels a bit like a stray dog caught drooling over glistening cuts of meat in a butcher's shop - probably looks like one too. But really, who could blame her, with such an enticing specimen before her?

She clears her throat again, and, remembering her manners, extends an arm to take Roy's hand.

"Ah- of course. It would be my pleasure, sir."

Roy tugs at the fabric around his hips to allow his legs freedom, and his form is even lovelier in motion as he steps forward (a little wobbly on the heels, but he's managing), and outstretches a hand toward Riza's.

But as she takes Roy's fingers in her own, a thought crosses her mind - rather, an important observation. Roy went through an awful lot of preparation to dress up for tonight, employing both his own skills and those of his foster family...  _ Far _ more effort than for an actual public outing, where all he really does is clean himself up a bit and throw on a suit, some cologne, and an offensive amount of hair gel.

This is different - there's a sincerity to Roy's beauty here that makes it seem like its achievement was just as much for his own benefit as it was for Riza's. Maybe even more so... As if he's actually... perhaps...

"...Or should I call you 'madam' instead?" Riza asks suddenly, meeting his eyes.

Roy's movements towards her shudder to a stop, and his eyes nearly bug out from his sockets. He stares, frozen, for a moment long enough for Riza to fear that she's crossed a line that should not have been crossed right now.

But thankfully, in the next moment his eyelids flutter, once again downcast and bashful as his blush deepens further, now spreading down to his neck. He clears his throat and struggles to respond. "I- I, uh..."

Again he squirms with indecisiveness, but this time he's faster to settle on an answer. He shakes himself out of his stupor with a literal shake of his head and says finally, "Um- No. No, that won't be necessary, Lieutenant."

Riza resists the urge to sigh with relief, nodding graciously instead. "As you wish, sir."

She takes his hand -  _ her _ hand, perhaps, if she decided not to take Roy's words at face value, as she usually does.

For a few years now, Riza's held the suspicion that some of Roy's private interests - like his preference for dresses - may be much more than simple hobbies for him. More like an integral part of a blooming identity, bursting to reveal itself as  _ more _ than simply a man, but locked within his many insecurities and the social cage he's trapped himself within to achieve his goals. At this point, Riza is certain this must be true, at least to some degree.

Who knows, maybe Roy was even more than a woman, extending beyond the usual binary. She always did have a penchant for breaking boundaries - perhaps their heart was as wild and shapeless as a flame, flickering between genders as the mood struck them. It would only be appropriate.

Either way, Riza was ready and waiting to accept this part of Roy wholeheartedly - she couldn't call herself their dear friend and dutiful Lieutenant if she didn't. But she is also patient, so for now, she'll sit by and agree to their preferences like she always does - watching, waiting, until they are ready.

From what she can see now, it's still a difficult thing for Roy to express openly - it's plain as day in his face. His mouth is a thin line again, and his eyes dart about nervously as they leave his home, alert for random passersby. Personally, Riza was fairly certain that no one would recognize him as he is now, especially under the cover of night, but he's justified in being paranoid; if word got out that the handsome, swaggering bachelor known as Colonel Roy Mustang dressed in intensely feminine outfits and had distinctly unprofessional (and un-normative) nightly affairs with his First Lieutenant in his spare time, who knows what kind of scandal it'd start, especially in this tumultuous political climate?

Riza squeezes his hand for reassurance and picks up the pace as they walk down to her car. Luckily, there's no one in sight on this particular night, and the darkened streets are bare and quiet. Still, Roy only sighs with relief once he's seated comfortably in the passenger seat, the doors are closed and locked, and they are safely on their way back to Riza's abode. He breathes more and more easier as they watch familiar streets and buildings pass them by, even more so when Riza occasionally brushes the skin of his arm and exposed thigh with her non-driving hand.

His eyes sparkle with eagerness, and Riza has no doubt that hers look the same.

\---

Riza's apartment is much humbler compared to Roy's, even a little cramped in places, but it's all the more cozy. As much as she spends most of her waking life at work, she still makes the most of her private time and space; affording herself all the necessities to live comfortably, but also enough luxuries to please her heart and make up for the lack of them in her childhood.

Despite the lingering evidence of Hayate's presence from a vague musk in the air and hairs on the furniture, she's made her apartment far more appealing as a social gathering place than a stark, stuffy hotel lobby. There's warm, low lighting via candles and oil lanterns (leaving most of the electric lights off), the air is sweetened with smoke from a stick of burning incense on her coffee table, and a radio in the corner scratches out pleasant, jazzy tunes.

The furnishings are equally warm, mostly wooden and in earthy colors to remind her of Eastern forests in the fall, and are kept clean and neatly arranged to allow close but still-comfortable proximities. One could call it downright homely, if not for a few things - like a set of garishly bright yellow window curtains, a glass case holding a collection of cheaply-imitated Xingese pottery, and her personal gun closet standing proudly along the wall of her parlor.

Many people call her odd for these things - Roy is one of the loudest. "You have the  _ strangest _ tastes, I swear," he says for the umpteenth time as he crosses the threshold, taking it all in before shooting a cheeky grin at her. "You should really bring Edward around sometime, you have a lot in common."

Riza rolls her eyes and pokes him in retaliation. "I'll consider it, sir. Now sit down before you fall off those heels."

Roy puts out his decorated lips in an exaggerated pout. "Pardon me - I am the Flame Alchemist Colonel Roy Mustang, thank you very much," he says haughtily. "And it'll take  _ much  _ more than a pair of shoes to bring me down. I've trained myself well, as you can see."

He turns and saunters away, demonstrating his barely-kept balance by swaying his hips from side to side as if he were walking down a catwalk instead of Riza's hallway. He'd at least get a round of applause for the effort, as he almost sends himself to the floor in his efforts to reach the small dining set that's just aside from the kitchenette. He doesn't bother to mask his relief at not losing his footing completely, smiling and giggling as he takes his seat. Riza can only laugh as well - it's so rare to see him like this, child-like and comfortable in his own skin.

Dinner is retrieved from a set of covered plates on the kitchen counter, a luxurious meal ordered from a restaurant that's famous for its fine dinners and delivery options. They discussed their preferred meals ahead of time, and knowing that Roy dislikes anything charred or flesh-like, Riza serves him a bowl of stir-fried noodles and vegetables on a bed of golden rice, which he enjoys heartily. Riza herself indulges in a perfectly-seared fìlet mignon with roasted asparagus on the side, all topped with a rich, earthy sauce. For drinks, they've cracked open two bottles of Riza's personal stash - more sparkling cider for her, red wine for Roy.

They talk about the finer points of cooking and recent news here and there, but mostly they pass the time enjoying the food and each other's company quietly. When they've finished, Riza leaves their dirty plates on the table to be cleaned later, at the moment much more concerned with joining Roy on the corner-couch surrounding her coffee table to sit and talk more comfortably while finishing the last of their drinks.

Roy is even more relaxed with good food and drink in him. He stretches lightly, then sinks into the corner-cushions with great contentment, a playful smile on his lips as he crosses his legs and twirls his wine glass in one hand. He resembles a large cat lounging upon its perch - so much so that Riza's half-surprised he isn't purring.

She takes her seat just across from him. "You seem awfully content for someone who didn't even eat their fill," she teases. "There was a good portion still left on your plate, and we never even touched the desserts."

Roy's eyes crinkle with amusement. "If I ate all of that in one sitting, I might not fit into this dress anymore. I'm taking a risk as it is."

That seems obvious enough, as Riza watches the dark fabric straining precariously around his bent legs and hips as he shifts in his seat, filling tautly around his now-slightly-wider middle. She licks at her teeth under her lips, savoring the lingering taste of meat there. Despite the food in her belly, her appetite is far from sated.

"It's a shame," she starts, balancing her cider in one hand and letting the other come to rest upon Roy's exposed knee, "How rarely you wear things like these, Colonel. If it were my decision, I'd hate to keep this kind of beauty behind closed doors."

Roy tenses for the briefest moment at the contact, but doesn't move or uncross his legs - a good sign. He smirks at her over his wine glass. "I hope you're not implying that I should dress like this at whatever political gathering we're dragged to next, Lieutenant."

"Well... I think it's a possibility," Riza says. "Perhaps someday, in the future."

Roy sips his wine, not looking at her anymore. "Hm. The distant future," he says, his voice hollow within the glass.

Riza studies him, a bit crestfallen - alas, she can only prod him so much. For now, maybe a more humorous slant is needed.

"I suppose. It  _ would _ give everyone a terrible shock... good for a laugh, at least."

Roy snorts softly. "God- I can certainly imagine it. Grumman would flip his lid  _ completely _ if he saw me like this."

Riza snickers. "I don't think he'd even  _ recognize _ you. Probably try to flirt with you again."

Roy exaggerates a disgusted groan. "I've had _ quite enough _ of that from him. For a lifetime, I think."

"No need to worry, sir. I wouldn't let him near you." Riza allows her voice to dip into enticing commands again, and she makes her intentions clear with her thumb rubbing small circles into Roy's legging-encased knee.

His smile becomes knowing. "Defending me from your own family now, Lieutenant?"

Riza shrugs. "We were never close anyway. And it's my job, after all."

"I think we both know that your dedication extends  _ far _ beyond your sense of duty by now."

Roy sells the tease with a small, sly wink in her direction, ever the charmer. Even Riza isn't immune to his wiles, but she  _ is _ better at being less obvious about it. Like now, as she resists the urge to giggle and lets it out as a small sigh instead, setting her drink on the coffee table and spreading her hands.

"Guilty as charged. But really, can you blame me?"

She shifts forward to let her hands come to rest upon Roy's legs again, this time squarely on his thighs, especially the exposed one, letting her fingers rub more and deeper circles into his skin.

"You are a...  _ unique _ sort of individual, after all. One of a kind, even. A very precious commodity."

Roy lids his eyes, watching her movements. "You flatter me, Lieutenant."

"I only tell the truth, sir."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Except the times when you don't."

"Only when it's necessary."

"Like?"

She recalls the first thing that comes to mind. "Like when a pea-brained homonculus thinks they can fool me with an imitation of you."

Roy's eyes squint slightly, unfocusing. There's laughter there, but also something cold and unpleasant.

"Of course," he murmurs. "You've told me of that battle, before I... intervened." He's picking his words as carefully as he picks around the sharp, painful edges of the memory, and all its associations.

Riza regrets bringing it up. She got too caught up in the bantering - it  _ was _ the most recent and harrowing situation she could think of in which she lied to survive, but still...

She shifts closer, sliding her hands up and along Roy's hips, settling one in the dip of his waist and the other beneath the lip of his dress slit, right into the warmth of his thigh-skin and centimeters away from his ass. The distraction works - Roy refocuses his attention on her again, drawing in a sharp breath and arcing his back forward ever-so-slightly in response to the touch, pushing his chest against the taught fabric of his dress.

"Anyway," Riza murmurs, keeping up the distraction with massaging fingers and the return of her dominant tone, "I'm only being honest. As much as I am your Lieutenant, you are my Colonel. In other words... you are mine."

Roy breathes out, sighing wistfully. "I am?"

"Always."

He lids his eyes and whispers, "Show me, then."

"Gladly."

Riza leans in further, snakes her arms further up and around him as she crosses the distance between them, and catches Roy's lips in her own.

And oh, to taste him again - she missed it so. There's the briefest tinge of unpleasantness from the chalkiness of his lipstick, but it's easily miss-able among the dozens of others flavors that color his mouth and tongue. There's bits of his dinner, bits of the wine, hints of mint and cologne from leftover toothpaste and mouth spray. But mostly it's the warm, sumptuous flavor of his mouth against hers, and Riza eats it up more hungrily than the richest steak money could buy.

Her hands are just as gluttonous. Her light massaging turns into a deep groping at Roy's waist and thigh, the waist-hand circling around to his back to wrap around and draw him in as they shift their bodies closer. The thigh-hand savors the softness of him there, working steadily forward and up until her fingers are slipping under the lacey edge of his underwear and stroking the flesh of his soft, plush ass.

Roy's body was a bit softer than one would assume - a consequence of his drinking tendencies and incorrigible sweet tooth. On top of the occasional temptations of various pastries and desserts, he always has his morning coffee with cream and three lumps of sugar, and takes his evenings' alcohol as fruity gin and sweet vodkas. Despite a daily exercise regimen that he's (mostly) faithful to, he still spends most of the workday sitting at a desk, so the sugars haunt him in the form of a significant layer of fat on his lower stomach, hips and thighs.

Not that Riza was complaining, mind you. Quite the opposite - the extra flesh gives her more of him to savor, and Roy himself enjoys the extra attention, as he always does.

He hums with deep-throated pleasure against her as they keep kissing, shifting and grinding closer and closer. At some point he had the presence of mind to set down his wine on the coffee table and his now-free hands grope Riza in kind, grasping at her waist and lower back through her suit jacket and undershirt (avoiding the area across her shoulders, where she dislikes being touched for obvious reasons).

She allows this for now, caught up in the heat and excitement - they've both tipped their hands before even reaching the bedroom, but again, it's been a while and they've been very stressed lately. So Riza can't blame herself too much when their love-making becomes so feverish that her ass-groping hand pushes a few centimeters too far in its ministrations, and by the time she realizes she's crimping and tearing Roy's dress slit further open, it's too late.

There's a small  _ sh-rrrip! _ down at Roy's side, and they both freeze momentarily. Riza pulls away and, looking down, sees that her wrist and forearm had tested the limits of what little space was left between the dress and Roy's hip - the small seam that his sister probably took great pains to cut, pull apart, then re-sew, has now been torn and frayed at its corner, its tiny threads stretching and breaking apart around the now-larger area of Roy's exposed thigh.

Riza withdraws her hand, mildly flushed with shame. "Oh- I'm sorry, sir. And after all the trouble you went through..."

Roy, slightly disheveled between his mussed hair, blushing face and smeared lipstick, studies the damage with more bewilderment than anything else - then chuckles with amusement as he meets her eyes.

"It's alright, Lieutenant. No great loss. It was a quick and dirty sewing job anyway, can't be too surprised."

Riza's fears are eased, but only so much. "At least extend my apologies to Victoria; it's her work, after all."

"A work she full-well knew the purpose of," Roy says, his eyes sparkling with something between lust and mischief. "Trust me, apologies aren't needed."

Riza catches her breath. He predicted this? Cheeky devil...

And sure enough, Roy's smile becomes predatory. "Besides, all of this..." he gestures across himself, especially around his greater expanse of exposed skin, "...Always belonged to  _ you _ first, Lieutenant. It's only appropriate that the owner of a great gift should tear off its wrapping."

For a rare moment, Riza fears she could actually lose her composure for once - she comes very close to deciding to fulfill that proposition with feverish hands and teeth, right here, right now, abandoning all plans and further foreplay. She barely stops herself - and it must show in her face, as Roy's smirk becomes downright devilish as he watches her. Damn him and his wiles.

"You-"

Riza decides not to finish that thought, not quite trusting herself at the moment. Instead she tugs him back in, silencing his much-too-smart mouth with another kiss.

She swallows whatever retort Roy planned on making with ravenous teeth and tongue, supplanting small moans of needs into his throat, even hungrier than before. Her grasping arms and hands all but claw at his exposed back and shoulders, snaking down his backside from the tactically-safer direction of his dress's open back. Her fingers dive down the slope of his spine into the soft landing of his ass again, now with a bit more freedom and easier access.

Roy takes it all in stride, groaning low and deep in his throat and squirming against her ministrations. His skin is flushes with heat and moistens with sweat everywhere that she touches, and his dress's tiny creaks of protest increase in frequency as he shifts, no doubt feeling an increasing need to have it off.

And, to none of Riza's surprise, she feels one of her roving hands brush over a distinct bulge now forming in the front-side of his groin.

The touch draws a needy moan from Roy, and the moment of blind lust ebbs away enough for Riza to reclaim a bit of clarity - she should more seriously consider slowing her advances, now. At this rate Roy will come undone long before she can show what she has in store for him - and make him fall apart in ways she prefers.

She draws away to catch her breath, but doesn't quite relinquish their closeness, hugging his waist and resting her sweating brow against his. Roy is only more lovely in his further-disheveled state - sweat and saliva mix with makeup and strands of hair, sticking and dripping against his features, and at this distance she can see his dark eyes practically sparkling with inner light.

She presses feather-light kisses against the warm skin of his cheek. "Oh, the things I could  _ do _ to you, Roy," she murmurs against him.

Roy closes his eyes, hums with expectancy. "Tell me, Riza."

"Ah- words escape me," she whispers, slightly breathless. "But I promise, it'll be a night to remember."

Roy hums again, gently nuzzling against the side of her head and pecking at her ear. Riza savors the more-tender contact as they cool off, breaths deepening and heartbeats slowing. But her loins still prickle with need, and there is no doubt that Roy feels similarly.

A few moments more of small, tender touches and she's had her fill. Eager to make good on her plans, Riza shifts away to stand up from the couch, begrudgingly releasing her hold on Roy save for a lingering hand that catches his own and gently tugs his arm up with her.

She bends down to press her lips to his knuckles, meeting his eyes.

"Shall we get started, sir?"

Roy smiles serenely as he rises to his feet. "Finally- for a moment I thought you'd never ask."

\---

NSFW warnings: Dom/Sub roleplay, mild humiliation, whipping, spanking, pegging, dirty talk, more gender/pronoun stuff

\---

Minutes later, Riza is in her bedroom, relinquishing herself of her clothes and jewelry as she waits for Roy to finish freshening up in the nearby bathroom.

Having hung and folded away her pantsuit in her dresser, she bends further to the bottom-most drawer to tug it open - there, under a discreet layer of towels, is a small menagerie of sex toys and harnesses, freshly cleaned and sanitized, ready for use.

She hums to herself as she retrieves a few in particular for her plans tonight, setting them upon her bedcovers and fiddling with the last of their straps and buckles. She smiles as she hears the soft sounds of rushing water from the bathroom, thinking of Roy, herself, all that has come to these moments.

Over the years, Riza has found that her desire for control applied equally to bedroom activities. As she explored the extent of her own adulthood, she's spent some time here and there quietly scoping out various sex shops in her spare time, especially since their transfer to Central. It didn't take long before she found herself drawn to the BDSM scene - it held inherent power dynamics, gratifying roleplay, and cathartic exploration of feelings and desires in a safe, regulated space, all in a multitude of forms of methods according to one's personal preferences... Simply put, it was right up her alley.

She was private about it, like she is about most things in her life, and fairly sparse. The most she's spent on are a few lingerie items, a phallus or three, and a whipping apparatus. Recently she's added an especially...  _ interesting _ new purchase to her repertoire, which she's excited to try for the first time tonight - as she finishes the last of its preparations, she sets this particular toy just under the edge of the bed, to retrieve later as a delightful surprise for her partner.

Roy is far from the only one Riza's had - she's had several conquests under her belt (usually quite literally), but there is no doubt that Roy is one of her most favored, and also her latest and most proud achievement; only recently has she finally got him to not only re-embrace his dressing tendencies, but also his enthusiastically submissive sexual preferences. In layman's terms, he is very much a bottom - and like most aspects of his character, this is usually cleverly hidden beneath his surface. But like any buried treasure, it was both delightful and delightfully rewarding to uncover.

It's taken a few years for them to reach this level of comfort with each other - even longer to discover and accept these qualities about themselves.

Those early years were terribly awkward - mostly just terrible. They were still reeling from the slaughter they'd been forced to carry out in Ishval, desperately laying the groundwork for the rash, idealistic plan Roy formed in response, and generally just trying to come to grips with the frightening adulthood they'd been thrust into after their idyllic childhood dreams had been shattered. Sex and romance were far from their minds for a long time - they simply did their best to maintain even a shadow of their former friendship within their new dynamic, remolded into something cold and formal, haunted by specters of death from both the past and the future. 

But eventually, Riza's empty heart yearned for sustenance in silent, suffering cries, and Roy drowned his own in so much booze and loose women he was practically dizzy with misery. It figures it would take a team of cheeky subordinates and Hughes' prodding to get them to even acknowledge the tension between them.

Ah, Maes... she misses him so much.

He made this whole "relationship" thing look so  _ easy _ . Of course, that was all part of the trick - he and Gracia were frighteningly good at hiding their uglier qualities . But just as much, they made it clear how much work a stable, life-long relationship took to stay that way. She learned a lot in her conversations with them.

Such as, how to be unafraid to take the lead in a bedroom situation in which one's doof of a partner keeps trying to top you when it's clear his heart's not into it, but he's fooled himself into believing otherwise. Then how to embrace one's power as you lay upon him, riding him until he's a trembling, starry-eyed mess underneath you, and you can feel a whole world of possibilities opening up between you.

After that, it's mostly a matter of communication - "Just keep talking," Maes always said. Which they did, and still do.

But with all their progress, there is still the lingering question of whether this "relationship" of theirs was truly romantic or not. Riza and Roy were definitely more than friends by now, and their mutual devotion to each other was unshakable - and yet, neither of them have felt a great need to commit to the other wholly and completely, no matter what the circulating rumors would imply.

...And besides, the very last thing either of them want is to be tied to each other that way, considering their troubled pasts and already-stifling professional lives - and Roy knows better than to impose such a thing on her.

So, you could call them lovers, sure - but there was still nothing entirely traditional about their coupling. Perhaps it's only fair - they'd always had a penchant for quietly rebelling against tradition.

Speaking of, a lovely image of rebellion finally enters the room and makes himself known with a small cough.

Riza turns to see Roy standing at her bedroom's entrance, freshened up, comfortable, and ready to be at her mercy. He's washed his face clean of makeup, and removed his earrings and high-heeled shoes (his stance is more relaxed now that he isn't balancing precariously on them), but otherwise, he remains fully dressed.

Riza cocks an eyebrow as she looks him up and down - she herself still wears her button-down shirt to cover her back and shoulders (again, for obvious reasons), but leaves its front wide open, revealing her to be wearing nothing else besides her underwear. Her bra is dark and lacy, modest enough to cover half of her breasts, but only that much, leaving a healthy amount of cleavage showing. Her panties appear average, but closer inspection shows them to be of thin, lacy material that leaves little to the imagination in terms of her curves.

It suits her - Riza may appear modest at a surface level, but she is still very much a woman with wants and needs. And now, she acts upon those needs.

She retrieves the first toy of choice from the bed - a long, thin riding crop, made for use on humans instead of animals. Its tip is of a softened leather, nothing that will draw blood or severe welting, but will certainly bring sharp, painful pleasure with enough speed and force. Riza prefers this over a paddle, as she enjoys the long, precise strikes she can create with it. This, and its natural connection to Roy's surname, made it too amusingly appropriate to pass up.

Roy, also aware of this, smiles with amusement as Riza approaches him with the crop in hand, swishing it lightly.

"Finally ready, are you?" Riza teases, easing into her dominant tone as she eases them into their roleplay for the night. "You know I don't like waiting too long."

"My apologies, Lieutenant," Roy replies. "I only wanted to be...  _ properly _ ready for your enjoyment." His voice and expression is demure, but still holds the ever-present air of cockiness that Riza is always eager to challenge - and eventually break.

She makes this intention clear as she circles him, crop in-hand, touching lightly along his curves with her other hand and drinking him in with her eyes, as if he were a sacrificial maiden brought to the mouth of her cave. She finds herself pinching at the fabric of his dress where the slightly-torn slit is.

She meets his eyes. "Still want me to tear it off?"

Roy flutters his lashes, still smiling. "If it pleases you, Lieutenant."

Riza clicks her tongue, feigning disapproval. "Shameless. You're practically begging for it."

"Not quite, but I  _ am _ very eager."

Riza shakes her head, chuckling. "Of course you are."

But she begins to think of this more seriously, studying Roy's face, and she can't tell if he's suggesting this out of wine-fueled lust or otherwise. Perhaps he's eager to be rid of the dress so he doesn't end up banishing it to the back of his closet after tonight, like he's done to so many other garments - left to gather dust for months on end when he falls into another depressive spell.

Either way, Riza ultimately decides against it.

"It  _ is _ tempting... but it'd be such a shame, don't you think? Your sister worked hard to finish it in time, and you  _ do _ look so lovely in it. I think there's still some... uses to be had." She lets her words drip like honey, watching Roy's smile widen ever-so-slightly as he hears them.

Roy purses his lips and nods. "True enough."

Then Riza draws closer, slipping her hand fully into his hip, feeling the skin of his ass and the lacy edges of his underwear, growling softly. "And don't worry - I'll have you begging yet."

Roy trembles deliciously at the touch, and she doesn't miss the suppression of a moan in his throat.

And so their play begins in earnest - Riza leading with possessive touches, stern commands and flicks of her riding crop, while Roy submits to her with expectant looks and quiet responses, only speaking to answer her.

"Now- I want you to be still, and quiet. You are not just my Colonel, you are my toy - a lovely, pretty toy, to do with as I please. Toys don't move or talk back. And they are not allowed to touch me until I say so. Understand?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"No matter how close... or how tempting..." She draws even closer to Roy's front, snaking her arms about his waist and pressing her body flush against his. "You... will not move."

She savors the feel of his body against hers, her breasts pressing against the quickening breaths of his chest, his bulge twitching slightly near her hips. She traces the curves of his backside with her hands as she dips her head into the crook of his neck to breathe in his scent.

"Yes," Roy whispers, strained and breathless. His arms tense at his sides, and the rest of him trembles, no doubt fighting every urge inside him to reciprocate her touch. With her body exposed and in such close proximity, it would be very, very easy.

But, he does not move. After drinking her fill, Riza draws away and smiles up at him, smug. "Impressive," she purrs. "Who would guess that the great Colonel Mustang was  _ so good _ at following orders?"

Roy relaxes, catching his breath for a moment. "Only when they're from  _ you _ , Lieutenant," he says softly, fluttering his lidded eyes again. Even without most of his makeup, he is still beautiful - soft cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, full lips and dark hair - and with the light in his eyes and rosy redness dusting his cheeks, he seems so soft, so demure, so... feminine.

Hmm... Perhaps this is another opportunity to prod his insecurities into a more confident light.

"Aw- so sweet. So eager," Riza purrs, rubbing circles into Roy's hips with her thumbs. She watches his face as he savors the sensation, squirming against her touch, barely suppressing small moans and a tiny smile.

She makes her move. "You're such a good girl."

Roy's eyes widen at the words, and his blush darkens - but he says nothing, and doesn't show any obvious signs of protest or discomfort. Actually, Riza can almost hear a small sigh escaping him... Perhaps she was correct after all in referring to Roy as a woman earlier. 

The opposite could still be true, of course. Maybe he was just in the mood for being feminized tonight - he  _ did _ have a thing for humiliation - but if that were true, he wouldn't have spent so much effort in dressing up for the occasion, would have settled for a slapdash mockery of an outfit for the full 'sissy-ing' effect. That and he would have called the 'madam' gesture earlier  _ unwanted _ , not  _ unnecessary _ . So Riza feels confident in her first assumption.

But, just to make sure... Riza draws close again, not to tease, but to whisper in his ear. "You don't protest this, do you, madam?"

Roy's breath hitches, throat swallowing. "I- Erm. N- not if it pleases you, Lieutenant."

Riza's hands travel up his backside again, this time to rub comforting circles into his back. "It's not all for my pleasure - it's for yours as well, you know this."

"Mmm." Roy hums nervously, dips his head with a nod to confirm. Whether it's for the feminine pronouns isn't entirely clear, though - poor thing, perhaps his head won't let him get the words out.

Riza sighs lightly, kissing small apologies into his neck and collar bones. "You know our safe words," she murmurs in her normal tone. "Tell me when it's too much."

"Mhm." Roy grunts to confirm again, but this time he sounds more sure of himself - herself, rather. Riza decides she will address Roy as such, if only for tonight, and until she says otherwise. She will be regarded as any other female lover - she  _ is _ beautiful, after all.

"Good," Riza says aloud, picking up her dominant tone again. "Because you  _ are _ lovely, madam- ravishing, even."

She continues pressing her lips along Roy's neck and shoulder, tracing the line of the halter-style straps that travel up and to the back of his neck. She catches some of it in her teeth, lifts her hands to the knot holding them together, and in one swift motion, unties the top of Roy's dress so that it falls away around her waist, fully exposing her chest.

Riza is mildly disappointed, but not entirely surprised, to see Roy was not sporting a bra underneath. Ah well.

Instead Roy startles, flushing further, and her arms jerk upward and inward as if ready to cover herself - no doubt ashamed of how unflatteringly not-feminine her body is. Riza stops this with gentle hands on Roy's wrists, maintaining eye contact.

"Like I said - you are one of a kind, completely unique, madam," Riza says. "Always have been. Frankly, I feel honored to have someone so precious in my company tonight."

Roy relaxes at this, eyes softening with warmth and appreciation. And Riza smiles - but just to prove her point, she moves her hands to Roy's breasts, tracing her curves, and teases at her nipples. She pinches one between two fingers, drawing a small groan from her.

Riza watches Roy's face, savoring the way she squirms under her slightest of touches - and then dips, bringing her lips to Roy's captive nipple, catching it in her teeth, lightly licking and nibbling. This brings out more and louder groans from Roy, chest starting to heave from her breathing - and yet she is as still as she can be, still keeping her arms lowered and making no moves to reciprocate the touch.

But Riza only pushes her further - she continues her ministrations as her free hand reaches down and around to the front of Roy's hips, to the small bulge in the fabric between her legs. She grasps at it, feeling the warm, twitching head of a cock, and Roy gasps softly.

"Gorgeous," Riza whispers into Roy's skin, relinquishing her nipple. "So beautiful. How jealous our squadron would be of me, having our lovely Miss Colonel all to myself."

She moves her lips to Roy's other breast, and continues her worship of her partner's chest with her mouth, and of her cock with her fingers, gently stroking Roy through the layers of fabric. All the while, Roy is a twitching, sighing, moaning little mess.

Riza chuckles, and whispers into Roy's other breast as well. "One day, they'll see you in all your glory. They'll understand just how lucky I am. Maybe the whole country will, someday..."

At this, Roy tenses slightly, her moans and squirms subsiding. A pallor seems to fall over her, and she chuckles darkly under her breath. "Hah- That'll never happen..."

Riza stops her movements, relinquishing her hold and drawing away. Giving Roy a glowering look, she raises her riding crop and strikes at Roy's thighs, drawing a small cry from her.

"I said no talking," Riza tuts. "Especially so negatively. Bad girl."

Roy grunts in response, lowering her eyes and head in shame, submission - but it isn't clear whether the punishment was entirely welcome.

Riza reaches up to cup Roy's chin, gently lifting her head and forcing her to lock eyes - a common tactic she uses to assess her partner's state of being without breaking character. It's also handy in her play with Roy, as a way to make her feel smaller, despite how she physically dwarfs Riza by a significant amount.

Right now, gazing into Roy's dark eyes, she sees them to be twitching and slightly reddened with moisture - signs of an inner pain, a great sadness. Something between her words and touches may have brought about another wave of dysphoria in Roy - well, time to remedy that.

"I said you are beautiful," Riza says sternly, never breaking eye contact. "And I am in control right now, so what I say, goes. Understand?"

Roy lowers her eyes for a moment, wetting her lips nervously. Riza brandishes her crop again, now to tap it upon Roy's hip - like a race horse, it is not to harm, but to let her know it is there.

"You are a beautiful, smart, powerful young woman," Riza commands. "And I won't hear otherwise, or you'll get punished again. Do you understand?"

Roy shivers, caught between Riza's hold and her crop, and it would not be unexpected for her to bring out a safe word now - but she instead she relaxes, and meets Riza's eyes again. The gloom that seemed to take hold of her is ebbing away, replaced with that familiar light of confidence that Roy wears so well. Her breathing evens out, and she gives a small nod.

Riza smiles. "Good girl. You were doing well beforehand - I think you're due for a reward."

She releases her hold on Roy's chin and lowers the riding crop, allowing Roy a moment to relax. She deposits the crop back on the bed, leaving her hands free to take Roy by the waist. Another sigh escapes Roy as Riza holds her, then leans forward to kiss at her breasts again. "Come now, I have just the thing."

Then Riza gently pulls her towards the bed, leading her by the waist, almost like a dance - one in which her partner is carefully undressed as they glide across the floor. By the time Roy has been spun about and settled into a sitting position on the bed, her dress has been pulled down to gather around her knees, then her ankles, and then the smooth fabric has pooled onto the floor.

And just as she's been looking forward to all night, Riza sees the full extent of the dark, lacy leggings and garters Roy was wearing underneath, complementing her long, slender legs, complete with a pair of panties that can hardly contain her erect cock by now. She looks positively scrumptious.

Riza casts long, hungry looks across her form. Her hands drink in the sensation of Roy's legs encased in the thin, silky material as they travel down from her knees, then up from her ankles, settling above her thighs where her bare skin peeks out.

Riza hooks a finger around one of the garter-straps holding up the leggings as she locks eyes with Roy again. "My, my- You've certainly dressed yourself up for tonight," she purrs.

Roy flutters her lashes again, and lets her voice heighten in pitch and soften in tone to lean more into her femininity: "Well, of course- a proper toy should look nice for her master, after all."

Riza grins, equally excited from Roy's tease  _ and _ embracing of her gender. But, needing to keep up the play, she lets her smile turn wolfish. "You're so eager to please -  _ too _ eager."

Her finger holding the garter-strap pulls away, stretching the material, then lets go, making it snap against Roy's thigh-skin. Roy bristles at the sensation and lets out a startled cry that's clearly exaggerated, then bites at her lower lip, whimpering softly. Ever the actor, she sells it extravagantly well.

Riza stifles a giggle as she rises to her feet. "You naughty little thing - you'll get your just desserts, but I suppose I'll give you your reward first. Lay down on your stomach."

Roy obeys, flashing a coy smile as she lowers herself onto the bed and rolls over, leaving her backside facing up. She folds her arms under the pillow and rests her head above them, arcing her back in such a way to show off as much of her round ass as possible in her new position.

Riza doesn't bother to stifle another laugh as she watches Roy, walking around the bed at the same time toward her nightstand. From it she retrieves a small, sweet-smelling bottle, and pours an oily substance from it into her hands, smelling even stronger. She rubs it between her palms as she joins Roy on the bed, sitting beside the other's hips.

"Since you've been so stressed lately, I'll give you a little massage - then you'll be nice and relaxed for what I have next."

Roy hums in response, rising into a small moan at Riza begins working her oil-encased hands into her shoulders. She works her way down, rubbing out the remaining knots of tension in Roy's muscles, all along her spine until she's reached her hips. She pinches at the beginnings of a larger person's love handles peeking out above Roy's pelvis, and when she looks up again, she sees that Roy has sunk so deeply into her pillow she looks almost half-asleep. Which won't do at all - Riza quietly unhooks Roy's garters, pushes down the hem of her leggings, widens the leg-holes of her panties, then takes a firm hold of Roy's asscheeks with both hands.

Roy startles back into awareness, moaning and twitching her hips as Riza kneads her asscheeks vigorously, clearly not for any clinical reason - merely to revel in the smooth, soft roundness of them, so much like perfect little balls of dough.

"Mmm," Riza hums, "You naughty thing - I keep telling you to lay off the sugar, and yet here you are, with your chubby little ass."

She eases up on her ministrations a little, giving Roy a chance to catch her breath and respond. She turns her head on the pillow to not-quite look back at her. "You know I can't help my tastes, Lieutenant - I simply won't settle for less."

"'Settle,' hm? Getting uppity, arent' we?" Riza growls. "Time to put you back in your place, then." And she demonstrates by drawing back, lifting an arm, and striking Roy's exposed ass with an open-handed slap. The little dough-balls jiggle deliciously with the force, and Roy cries out in both surprise and arousal, tensing and arcing her back.

"Oh, do you not like that? Too bad," Riza tuts, and spanks her again, then again for good measure, drawing a similar response each time - a jolt that sends Roy's body writhing, and a thrill of excitement through Riza's being.

"I've been nice to you so far, but you're  _ far _ overdue for some punishment," Riza says, standing off from the bed and wiping off her oily hands on a nearby hand-towel. She retrieves her riding crop and stands by Roy's bedside, towering over her prone form.

"Oh no- please don't," Roy whimpers, exaggerating it as usual, as she can barely hide the excited smile that plays at the edges of her lips. Riza doesn't doubt that her own face looks the same. This kind of roleplay has been a favorite of theirs for several years, though tonight's exploration of Roy's gender has put an exciting new twist on it. Either way, Roy's protests are only a part of the play - never take her at her word, after all. If she really wanted to stop, she'd use their safe words.

Riza smiles devilishly. "You've been a  _ very _ bad girl." And with one hand bracing against the small of Roy's back, she lifts her riding crop and begins whipping it vigorously against Roy's ass.

Whack! Whack! "You've been hanging around far too many other girls - you're just like them now. A proper slut, aren't you?" Riza's dirty-talk is as relentless as her blows. She relishes this role - it's ideal for satisfying her needs and venting her frustrations, considering the hardships she has endured, and will only continue to.

Whack! Whack! "And you love this, don't you? I can see you getting harder down there. Simply shameless." Roy's ass turns pink, then bright red in color as the blows continue, and her cries only grow in pitch and frequency. Soon she's making muffled groans into her pillow, face fully buried into it.

Whack! Whack! "Just look at you - your big round ass out in the open. Just imagine if the others saw you like this - the whole team coming in one morning and seeing you bent over your desk."

Whack! Whack! "Even better - imagine we're at another one of those parties, your slutty ass on full display for everyone to see."

Roy bucks her hips, hissing through her teeth. "No, please," she says, "Ah- anything but that-"

WHACK! An especially hard blow. "Quiet! You know you'd love it, you little whore. You're imagining it right now. All those guests, all those Generals, everyone looking at you so  _ hungrily _ ."

Roy dips her head back into her pillow again, stifling a loud groan.

Whack-whack! "Your reputation ruined in an instant - instead everyone knows Roy Mustang as the biggest whore in Amestris, putting out for anyone to get what she wants. Instead of the top you're going straight to the bottom, under every cock they plow into you. But don't worry- I won't let them touch you, not one of them. Not until I've had  _ my _ fun first."

Another strike, and then a few more, and now Roy was just  _ writhing _ against the bed, clutching her pillow like a lifeline, ass cheeks resembling a pair of ripe tomatoes, her cock wetting her panties with precum. From what Riza can see, her eyes are squeezed tightly closed and leaking a few tears - she was reaching her limit.

Riza gives her one last whack for finality, but without the usual force, more of a love-tap than anything else. "There- have you learned your lesson, little lady?"

She pauses to allow Roy to recover - and herself as well, letting her arm rest and her adrenaline and arousal to subside. The silence sinks in for a few moments.

Roy pants, breathing herself back into coherence. When she can speak clearly, her voice is watery. "N-no... Please, Lieutenant, give me more. I've been so bad- the  _ worst _ ..."

Riza chuckles, but she's slightly concerned - normally Roy would play along and say she's had enough. "Aw- but your poor little bottom looks so sore," she says, petting at Roy's bright red backside.

"I need it," Roy murmurs into her pillow. "I- I deserve it." Her voice is quiet, near-whispering, and edging dangerously close to a sob. Ah- she's dipped back into her self-loathing, poor thing. Maybe the roleplay went too far again...

Riza changes her petting to a soothing rub, and her tone to something softer. "Easy, now- I say whether you've had enough. I'm in charge, remember?"

She rubs at Roy's backside, gently, massaging away the tension that's recollected there - soon Roy is relaxing again, and she hums in response. "Mm..."

"Tell you what," Riza continues, "Be a good girl and hang in there just a little bit longer, and I'll give you what you  _ really _ deserve."

Roy seems to perk up a little at this, shifting her head to glance behind her. As she does, Riza retrieves another bottle from her nightstand - from it, she pours a cool, slick liquid onto her hands, and she rubs her palms together to warm it with her body heat.

She notices Roy's eyes brightening across the bed, and Riza grins. "That's right - time to make you nice and loose. Spread your legs for me."

Roy obeys, even more enthusiastically than Riza predicted - she not only spreads her legs, she shimmies them to and fro as she hooks into her panties and leggings with her thumbs and shrugs them down, pushing them down to her knees and exposing herself fully.

"Oh ho," Riza chuckles as she approaches Roy again. "Trying hard to be a good girl again, aren't you?"

"Only for you, Lieutenant," Roy responds, in a voice that's somewhere between a sweet little housewife and an amateur prostitute, maybe both at once.

Riza can only laugh. "You're adorable," she says, dipping into sincerity for a moment. This colors Roy's cheeks with another embarrassed blush.

She reddens further as Riza gently spreads her ass with her hands, giving easy access to her hole. "Now, don't come yet," she warns. "Only when I say you can, or you won't get your reward."

"Yes," Roy breathes.

And Riza enters her, carefully, with a lubed finger - she stops as Roy hisses and tenses, waits for her to adjust. Once she feels the muscles relax and Roy gives a signal, Riza pushes in further, and repeats the process until she can fit a second finger inside.

Roy makes all sorts of noises and movements in her efforts to not come - she even arcs her back and lifts her hips so that her dribbling cock hangs limply in the air between her thighs, denying herself any physical contact.

Luckily it doesn't take very long until she's ready - there's hardly any resistance once Riza pulls out her fingers. She pats Roy's ass affectionately. "What a good girl... Stay  _ right _ there."

And now Riza finally pulls out what she's been waiting all night to use - her latest and most prized toy so far, a strap-on harness and dildo she'd hidden just under the edge of her bed. She steps into it and begins clipping it on, stifling another excited giggle. "Now, turn around."

Roy rolls onto her back in time to see Riza tightening the strap-on and giving an experimental tug on the dildo - when they lock eyes, the roleplay breaks down for a few moments as they flash each other giddy, excited grins.

This is slightly new territory for both of them - in the past, Riza would usually pump a dildo in and out of Roy by hand, sometimes plugging it in while stroking her off to finish. The mechanics aren't so different here, but the manner of applying them definitely is, and they're both equally excited for it.

Riza is quick to clear her throat and get back to business. "Ahem- that's right, I'm going to fuck you just like you want, you little whore."

Roy's eyes grow to saucer-width, practically sparkling, and she nods enthusiastically. Riza applies a layer of lube to the dildo, then steps forward, smiling as she watches Roy scoot herself closer to the foot of the bed. She dutifully lifts her knees, allowing Riza to take hold of them and pull her panties and leggings off of her legs completely, leaving her completely naked and oh-so vulnerable.

Riza lifts Roy's knees to rest on her shoulders, grasps her thighs, and carefully guides the tip of the dildo toward Roy's entrance - all the while brimming with excitement and arousal at this new position. She pushes the dildo inside with one hand, uses the other to brace Roy's thigh, all the while glancing between it and Roy's face to make sure she isn't hurting her. She pauses when she notices Roy wincing, continues when Roy nods to urge her on, and soon enough, half of the dildo is securely inside. Then, with a hand still covered in leftover lube, she finally takes hold of Roy's cock, hot and tremulous in her grip.

Roy was moaning loudly at this point, more from pleasure than pain, squirming around the dildo with a need for more friction. Riza takes ones last opportunity to tease her. "Yes - you love it, you slut. You can come now, but you wouldn't have much choice in the matter with such a big cock in your ass."

"Oh,  _ please _ ," Roy whimpers.

Riza smiles. "Told you I'd make you beg."

And slowly, Riza begins bucking her hips, working the phallus deeper and deeper until she's buried it to the hilt inside her partner. Then she carefully pulls out, gives a moment for them both to breathe, then works it back in again, and in this way she slowly and carefully fucks Roy at an easy rhythm as they acclimate to the toy. All the while she strokes at Roy's cock lightly, and just as slowly.

And Roy just  _ writhes _ against her, twitching and moaning with an open, lolling mouth, her sounds lilting back and forth in time with their movements. She does her best to keep pace with Riza's movements in the grind of her hips, even as she aches for more, occasionally bucking against her in silent pleas for more. Her hands twitch uselessly at her sides 'till she digs her fingers into the bedsheets beneath her, grabbing fistfuls of fabric in a vicegrip.

"Please- harder, please," Roy whines between sharp gasps of breath, not quite looking at anything, her eyes glazed over with pleasure.

Riza can only comply. She hums with satisfaction as she picks up the pace, faster and harder in both her thrusting and stroking. Soon she's pounding Roy senselessly, the haze of lust taking over completely as she gives into the raw, primal nature of their copulation. The slapping of skin, the deep grunts and moans, the all-consuming heat - the appeal of this action for natural phallus-owners is crystal clear to her now.

Riza's only regret is that she can't feel anything through the dildo - she could more accurately hit Roy's prostate otherwise. But going hard and deep like this seems to do the trick just fine, and she gets more than enough pleasure from just this - the feel of her hips slamming against Roy's, her cock pulsing against her fingers, watching her come undone just beneath her.

By now, Riza's own womanhood was throbbing within the confines of her undergarments, because on top of everything else, the base of the dildo presses deliciously against her clitoral area every time she thrusts forward. She can feel her cunt wetting into the fabric of her panties, and again she half-wonders if she may lose her composure before Roy for a moment.

Only a moment, as the evidence is to the contrary.

Roy is completely senseless now - body shuddering, eyes rolling back, mouth hanging open with loud, strained cries. Any words she's saying are barely coherent, but they seem to be the usual - 'god,' 'yes,' 'please,' and  _ 'more _ .'

The 'yes'es become more pronounced as Roy approaches her edge, squeezing tears from her eyes as her wails grow into high-pitched whines. Riza's nearly breathless with the effort of her thrusting, but she finds the lung capacity to choke out one last command.

"Yes, yes-  _ come _ for me, Roy."

And with one last, deep thrust and a hard stroke of her cock, Roy finally does, and hard.

Her body locks in place for a moment, then shudders violently as shockwaves course through her, undulating her spine and rocking her trembling hips and thighs. Her throbbing red cock sprays copious amounts of cum across her chest and stomach, and her cries rise into a loud, long scream of pleasure that peters out into a deep, satisfied groan.

The reaction is so intense that for a moment, Riza's instinct is to fear she's hurt her - but then she remembers that Roy hasn't had this kind of action for nearly a year, on top of the drawn-out foreplay. And besides, she's always been embarrassingly loud.

Breathless as she watches her, Riza gently squeezes droplets from Roy's shuddering cock as she rides out her tremors, at the same time pulling her hips away to remove the dildo, resisting every urge in her to keep thrusting toward her own climax, not wanting to overwhelm Roy further and having a better idea for that anyway.

She briefly presses her lips to one of Roy's thighs. "Beautiful... absolutely gorgeous... You did so well," she whispers, a little hoarse.

She forces her trembling hands to lower Roy's legs, then unwork the belts of her strap-on to pull it down and off. She kicks aside the toy unceremoniously - she'll clean it later. For now, she has a much more pressing need. She crawls onto Roy on the bed, grasping along the curves of her body - Roy feels so relaxed beneath her hands that she's surprised she can still feel bones inside her, not having turned to mush from the heat enveloping her entire being.

Trembling and weaker in the hips than she predicted, Riza drudges up the last of her composure to make one last demand as she straddles Roy's stomach. "Huff- We're not done yet- You- you still have a mess to clean up, slut."

Roy hardly notices her, still swimming in the sea of post-orgasm bliss, but Riza nonetheless begins tugging down her panties, a significant wet spot in their center. She stands on her knees to pull them down and fully expose her dripping cunt, and at this, Roy finally takes notice.

Riza scoots closer, moving her hips up and past Roy's chest. "Time to - huff - use that whore mouth of yours for something  _ useful _ \- Ah- Pleasure me, Roy." Her tone falters toward the end, between her exhaustion and her precariously-desperate need.

Roy's eyes widen, but she grunts and nods, probably too tired and hoarse to respond verbally. She adjusts herself to grab Riza's hips, savoring her curves with her hands as she urges Riza's slickness closer. Then she's sitting squarely upon Roy's face, her legs spread out across her pillow as her lower lips meet Roy's own.

Roy's silver tongue wasn't just skilled in conversation, and begins to eagerly demonstrate the many techniques she employs to garner so much popularity with women in her suave bachelor persona. She quickly parts Riza's slit with her tongue, darting at and around her clitoris and drawing shockwaves from her; she moves down to her vaginal opening to stroke along its rim to bring her shivers; and all the while, her fingers work themselves into the curves of Riza's ass to tease at her other end.

Roy works faster, deeper, employing every part of her mouth to service her partner, and Riza is quickly reduced to a moaning, twitching mess atop her. She grasps the bed's headboard to brace herself against Roy's ministrations, and as much as she'd love to draw this out and savor it further, the coil in her belly and sparks in her veins are already too tight and hot to be denied their climax.

Then Roy begins sucking upon her clitoris, and any attempts to continue their play, or speak at all, fall apart as quickly as Riza does. Her orgasm quickly crashes through her and leaves her as a deep, loud groan, stars speckling the back of her darkening vision.

And yet Roy is relentless, continuing her licking and suckling as Riza trembles and wails above her, lapping up her juices like a hungry animal. Perhaps she was enacting some kind of revenge, or was simply insistent on giving Riza some fraction of the pleasure she'd dished out - either way, Roy continues eating her out for a little while more, overstimulating her until she's too tired to continue.

Roy signals this with a gentle push, urging Riza off of her. She does so, all but flopping onto the other side of the bed as Roy scoots herself back towards her pillow and catches her breath. Riza has to close her eyes for a while, so great is her exhaustion - she stops short of falling asleep, however, forcing her eyes open to check in on Roy.

Roy is a sight to behold now - naked, hair a mess, skin splotchy, face and chest covered in semen and fluids, not to mention the welts and oils decorating her backside - and she is only more beautiful than before. Her half-lidded eyes hardly register the world around her, dark and sparkling like a night in the clear-skied countryside, pooling with leftover moisture and a deep, satisfied pleasure.

"Roy." Riza speaks softly to get her attention. Roy opens her eyes fully to look at her, and the sparkle of her eyes brightens further.

She rolls to her side and extends her arms to wrap around Riza's shoulders, drawing her in for a hug. "Thank you," Roy whispers hoarsely. "Thank you so much."

Riza chuckles against her chest. "So you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yes- God, yes. More than that, I- You were right. I... I needed that."

Riza pulls back her head, enough to meet Roy's eyes again. "Even calling you 'madam?'

Roy blinks, once, twice, breathes out slowly. "I... Yeah. Yeah, even that."

Riza smiles. "So I guessed right."

Roy laughs, a weak, breathy sound in her throat. "I think you officially know me  _ too _ well, now."

"I only do my best, madam," Riza says, a breathless little tease.

"You certainly do - and you are. You're the best, Riza," Roy whispers, giving her a half-hearted but nonetheless tender kiss to the lips - which is wet and tastes of Riza's own essence, but she pays it no mind.

When they pull away, silence settles in again, and they simply lay there, watching each other breathing, drifting slowly towards unconsciousness - until a thought crosses Riza's mind. Truthfully it's more like a small worry that's plagued her all through their copulation, and she feels the need to voice it before she falls asleep and forgets it completely.

"Um- I should ask. What should I call you?"

Roy, almost half-asleep again, opens an eye. "Mm?"

"I mean- if you're serious about... this," Riza gestures vaguely, "Is there another name you would prefer?"

Roy closes her eyes, squeezes both, then wipes a hand across her face, groaning softly. "Erm- I don't... really know, honestly. It's still..."

She blinks a few times again, and when she leaves them open, there's that distant, burning look in her eyes, the one she wears every time she snaps a flame into being - no, this is different. This is quieter, more introspective. She's searching inside herself, but not for any Alchemical formula or dark, terrible memory.

"...I'm still figuring it out," she says finally. "Roy is still fine, I don't really mind. I mean, I'm not even sure if this is even... well, a  _ real _ thing. Maybe it's just for tonight. Or nights like this - you know, just for the roleplay-"

Riza silences her with a finger to her lips. "I get it," she chuckles. "Whatever it is, you don't have to justify it to me, you know."

Roy smiles around her finger, but there's something sad in her expression. "I know- I think I'm justifying it to myself more than anything."

Riza hums sadly, moving her hand instead to brush aside Roy's mussed bangs. "I'll only ask what I always do - talk to me. Tell me everything - or at least, anything I can do to make this easier. I don't want to have to push you again, like tonight."

She cups Roy's cheek with her palm, and Roy sighs and leans into it, closing her eyes. Her throat moves, but she says nothing - perhaps nothing more needs to be said, for now.

"Listen- whatever you are - or want to be - I will support you. Always. Just like I promised," Riza says, just to put it in words that Roy can hear, making it absolutely clear and unshakable.

Roy opens her eyes, soft with moisture again. "Even into hell..." she murmurs.

"Even into hell," Riza echoes, and she withdraws her hand and lays back, letting her eyes be pulled shut by the waves of exhaustion and bliss that still lap at her. She watches Roy one last time as her vision unfocuses and drifts into dreamless sleep.

Her last conscious thought is of Roy - her, him or otherwise - and how lucky she feels to be the retainer of such a proud, beautiful flame.

END.


End file.
